Death Daintily
by TPKTheStoicTPK
Summary: Academy City is a dark place, the people in it darker still. When bodies start piling up its up to me to face it down with nothing but six shots in my gun and seven shots in my flask. I am Misaka Mikoto Private Eye. Film Noir inspired AU.
1. Chapter 1

It had rained last night, and by the look of the sky it wasn't over yet. The dark clouds covered the stars and blotted out the moon leaving the night to be lit only by the streetlights which dotted the roads and reflected in the large puddles of water that covered the ground. I could hear that the wind was calm though, leaving the puddles to be disturbed only by the occasional vehicle or streetwalker that splashed through them.

The sounds of the streets at night resonated through the thin walls of my office. The blaring of car horns, the cat calls of hookers on the prowl, and the roaring of the train as it pulled into the nearby railyard all added to the background noise of life in Academy City.

But even with such loud noises coming at me from all sides it still seemed oddly quiet. A strange hush had fallen over the wind despite the obviously brewing storm.

Storms were drawn to me it seemed. Even as one gathered outside, another stood in my office, staring holes in my back as I looked out the window. I could see her reflection in the glass. She was a pretty little storm in a long, tight dress, one whom I knew well.

With a last puff on my cigarette I ground the butt into the windowsill . "I'm afraid I'm closed for the night madam, or did the locked door not tip you off?"

"Come now Misaka, since when have I ever let a mere lock stand in my way?" The woman cooed.

I prefer thunderstorms. I can avoid a thunderstorm. I can bar my windows and seal my doors from the wind and rain. No window or door or lock could keep this storm of a lady out. If you put a solid wall between her and her goal she'd figure out a way to walk through it.

"Such a waste of talent when the hardest thing you need to get into is another person's pants," I looked over my shoulder at the woman.

"It's my girls that get into their pants," she corrected, "I get into their heads, their hearts, and their wallets." Her words were getting snappier, not with irritation, but impatience. I couldn't put this off forever.

I turned my collar up against the oncoming storm and turned around. "So what can I do for you Kuroko?" I asked.

This girl, Shirai Kuroko, was the madam and owner of a brothel here in town by the name of "The Love Well". She'd always had a sweet spot for me. From what I'd heard from the girls I'm the only client she sees to personally.

I'd had various connections to The Love Well over the years. I had watched it grow from a small rundown shack with a few gutter rat employees, to a few nice, rented apartments with several decent girls, to the popular bordello with dozen of ladies of the night that it was now. I had watched as her dresses and jewelry and makeup had improved with each step up the ladder, even as my own office fell into disrepair and disorder and my shoes and coat lost their sheen and collected scuff marks.

The silk dress and silver bracelet that the woman wore didn't belong in a place like this. My office was not a place of opulence and brilliance. The flickering light bulb overhead and the damp creeping up the walls showed exactly what this place was.

But Kuroko was not expecting luxury or class. No matter how many dresses of silk and lace she imported from Milan, or how many pearls weighed down her neck and wrists, it could not change the fact that she had dwelt in this world for long enough to know how little to expect of the light and how much to respect and utilise the darkness we both lived in.

"You can offer a lady a drink," she sighed, sitting down.

"I'm afraid I'm all out of champagne," I told her as I wandered over to the rack where several bottles filled with varying amounts of liquid lay side by side.

"Champagne is for happy occasions. Get me something heavy that burns on the way down," She stated solemnly.

I looked back at her and grabbed two shot glasses but left all the bottles on the shelf. I set a glass in front of each of us and took my flask from my hip. "Nothing burns more," I assured her as I poured two shots out.

She downed the drink immediately and closed her eyes as the burn quickly set in.

I refilled her glass and looked at her as I drank my own shot. Slowly her eyes opened and turned down towards the glass. She lazily circled the rim with her finger as she gradually began to speak, "you can be a bit of a bore at times but you've always known how to treat a lady. Unlike some people..."

I shook my head and sighed at Kuroko's bluntness. "If you're just here to whine about how things have been going at the brothel then we could've just met at the bar and **you** could've picked up the tab."

"My girls have been going missing and one of them's just turned up dead," the woman summarized, and as if on cue the shutters banged against the window as a strong gust of wind blew.

My eyes narrowed. "You know I don't do bodies anymore Kuroko. Let the police handle it."

"And you know how the police handle prostitutes. They'll throw the body and the folder in the incinerator and forget about the whole thing. If Uiharu hadn't been the one on the scene I doubt I ever would have heard about this," she countered. "Who knows how many of the other girls have wound up dead only to be tossed aside by the coroner in favor of more important people. I doubt this is the only one who has died after going missing."

"If Uiharu's already there let her investigate it."

"She's still just a beat cop, she can't do anything on her own."

I sighed again and looked down at the desk. The paperwork I had spent a good portion of the day doing stacked neatly to the side. I had never really appreciated how tiring my secretary's job had been until I couldn't afford her anymore. The thought of doing more work, especially work that I had never wanted to do again, on top of it all was very unappealing.

"Look, Kuroko," I began, drumming my fingers on the desk as I looked back up at her, "It's been a long day and I want to go home. So unless you have a really good offer for me I'm going to have to say no."

One of Kuroko's hands moved to her shoulder before sliding the strap of her dress down her arm. Then she leaned forward, an intensity burning in her eyes that I was well familiar with. She plucked my fedora from my head and plopped it upon her own long, curly locks. "You know exactly what I have to offer," she purred. A hand moved to my chest, caressing my breasts.

It was a **really** good offer.

* * *

I stuck the cigarette into my mouth, holding it between my lips as I fumbled inside the pockets of my pants which had been tossed over the end of the desk for my lighter. I flicked it open and struck it twice before it caught flame. I brought it to my mouth and lit my cigarette before snapping the light closed and taking a deep drag, inhaling the acrid smoke.

Dainty, feminine fingers plucked the roll of paper and tobacco from my mouth. Though my eyes were still somewhat unfocused and my mind still a little hazy, I followed the fingers with my eyes. Watched as they moved and deposited the cigarette in Kuroko's mouth. The woman was sprawled out behind me, her fancy dress and expensive jewelry discarded, leaving her in only my hat and the two leather belts high up on her thighs that held a pair of knives. The knives were the girl's preferred weapon when a weapon was necessary for self defense.

She took a long drag and a slow exhale before smirking. "Think all of those yes, yes, yesses canceled out that one little no?" she asked teasingly.

I huffed and snatched my cigarette back, taking another deep inhale before holding up two fingers. "I want double my usual rate and free drinks at The Love Well's bar until this is over." It was hard to say no to Kuroko, she always seemed to persuade me in the end. But that didn't mean I couldn't ensure it was worth the inevitable mental turmoil.

"One and a half times your usual rate, free drinks until you finish, and I'll do that thing you like next time you come around," Kuroko haggled

"One and three quarters my usual rate, and I'll do the thing you like the time after that."

"Deal," Kuroko hastily accepted. She had an even harder time saying no to me it seemed.

I ground out the cigarette and began to put my clothes back on. It seemed that my bed would have to wait. I had a dead girl to see.

* * *

Author's Note: This story was an interesting experiment into a writing style I am very new to. Before starting I don't have much experience with film noir at all, though I do know the really common tropes. It was an interesting genre to delve into, both to watch and to write. I hope I did it justice.

I find one of the best parts of an AU like this is assigning the old characters their new roles. You need to give them a role in which they fit, but also one that's appropriate to the story. But once you've assigned their roles it's so much fun to imagine them in these new roles, living these lives that's so different from the one they had in canon and yet somehow still has that core something that makes the character the same one you know and love.

I hope you like this new story, and don't worry, I'm still paying attention to my other stories as well, but when this idea came to me I couldn't leave it alone.


	2. Chapter 2

The sway of Kuroko's hips was less pronounced than usual (it had been a rough "session") as she began to walk down the hall, away from my office as I locked up. Her job was demanding and she couldn't be away from The Love Well for too long. Not that I had expected or wanted a dame like that to accompany a dame like me on such an unsavory mission. She might have become a child of this city's darkness, but it was sex and debauchery that she had become familiar with, not murder and death like me. And perhaps it was a foolish sentiment, but I wanted to protect her from such things even knowing that she was strong enough to handle them.

My hat was back on my head, the cigarette packet in the pocket of my long trenchcoat was refilled, as was my supply of alcohol. This mission tonight was mine, and I'd be ready for it.

I pocketed my key and looked up at the sign above the door. "Misaka Mikoto, Private Investigator" it read, though the inked and raised wood that formed the letters had started to wear and fade over time. Soon enough the text would vanish altogether, just like everything else.

I turned my eyes towards the stairwell, descending to the bottom floor and stepping out in the cold night. The streetlamps all around me casting everything in long shadows that seemed to swallow the street. A chilly wind blew and I turned up my collar at it before beginning my journey to the place where I was needed, the place where the body of a young woman lay.

I followed the streets as far as they would take me, but the streets were only a small part of the city, and not one where this sort of thing would happen. I turned and went between two buildings, warehouses of no particular note or merit. The only reason they mattered to me was that they formed the alley that I now walked down.

The alleys of a city were not pleasant places to be. Even at high noon on the brightest day, alleys were swamped with shadow and sin. On a moonless night like this, where only the light that poured in from the adjacent streetlights could hope to provide any illumination, it made everything darker still. The buildings to either side loomed as if to warn me that nothing good could be found here, that I should be scared of this place.

In a place like this a dead body did not seem out of place. In fact I could argue that it completed the picture. Alleys were where the sins of a city bubbled up, reminding those who strayed from the main path what lies in store for them in the shadows. Here the corpse served as sin and warning both.

With a deep inhale that burned up half my cigarette and a swig of bourbon, I prepared for the sight I knew to be inevitable as I turned into the alley.

They say you never get used to seeing death. The truly frightening thing was that you do. I did. The first time I saw a corpse the cold dead eyes had haunted my dreams for weeks. I couldn't even look at the eyes of the dolls and stuffed toys I had in my room without being reminded of those lifeless orbs. Now I looked at them and just noted that this woman had gone a little heavy on the mascara.

It was not the pallor flesh, the lifeless eyes, or the spilled blood that disturbed me now. It was the memories of what they meant. And against the ghosts of my past the flask dangling from my left hip did a lot more good than the gun dangling from my right.

But not all memories of the past were tinged with sorrow, and not every person who found themselves in these dark, narrow straits was painted in sin. Sometimes a flower managed the pierce the concrete and bloom in the most unlikely places.

Standing near the body was the flower rooted in the pavement, a small bastion of purity in this world of sin. Her police woman's outfit the only thing here not coated in dirt and blood, including myself, the wreathe of flowers adorning her cap were the only things of beauty in this dark place. "Uiharu," I called out to her.

Those pure eyes turned up to look at me. The hope that sparkled within them made me itch. Her sorrowful frown turned upwards into a happy smile that I knew my presence should not warrant. Still I felt my lips twitching in return as she nodded to me and said, "Misaka-san, what a pleasure to see you. What are you doing here?"

Once upon a time this girl and I had been colleagues. It had not been for long but I still remember the kindness and innocence of this little girl, new to the force. Though others were quick to take advantage of her good will and naivety, I had endeavored to treat her with respect, rewarding her kindness with my own.

Under circumstances like those it was not surprising that we had become fast friends. She admired my skill and diligence. She looked up to me, she wanted to be just like me one day and was always asking for advice on how to do it.

For my part I admired her intelligence and resolve. I could see her potential and did what I could to help her unlock it.

I hadn't gotten very far before we had parted ways, and of all the things I miss, of all the things I regret, she is among the biggest. It was nice to see her again, a breath of fresh air amongst the cigarette smoke and scent of blood.

"Kuroko asked me to help her with this. So I decided to come to the scene of the crime and see what I can figure out. I didn't expect you to still be here," I explained to her.

"Oh... uhm, right. This was one of her..." the cop flushed, hesitant to say the word. She was so innocent, in every sense of the word. "one of her employees wasn't it," she finished, unable to say the word in the end. "I found her a few hours ago. I was just at the station filing the report on it but... something was bugging me so I came back."

I nodded along with her words. I could feel it too, a niggling little doubt that told me that not all was as it seemed. It was weird that Uiharu had felt the same though, her intuition was not nearly as strong as mine. Was the little inconsistency not so little after all? Or perhaps it was Uiharu's logical side that was telling her that something was up, rather than any sort of intuition. The police woman couldn't feel things in her gut like I could, but she was good at looking at things rationally and figuring out the problem that way.

"At first I thought it was probably a... umm, you know. A client, who had gotten angry at her for not doing... something that he wanted," her eyes were glued to the ground in embarrassment as she talked. "But I don't think that's it. Her dress isn't ripped and there aren't any other apparent injuries. Plus the shot was too precise, too professional. It hit her exactly in the back of the head, killed her in an instant like someone was trying to. It can't have been an accident."

"So who do you think did this?" I asked, looking down at the body and confirming her words at a glance.

"You know the Perizioute family?" She began, speaking in the hushed whispers that everyone did when speaking about them.

I nodded. They were, after all, one of the bigger mafia groups in the area. Though few people dared to speak of them, everyone seemed to have heard of them, as was common for those types. "What about them?"

"I've been seeing one of their capos around an awful lot lately. From what I hear they're into pr-pr-pro-prost..." the police woman's eyes darted back to the ground.

"Prostitution," I provided for her, knowing I'd be here all night if I let her do this in her own time. And I wanted to be far away from this body as soon as possible.

Uiharu nodded, "so I figure maybe they did this because territorial issues or something. I don't know."

I nodded. It was certainly possible. If it was true then there wasn't much the police could do about it. But at least I could advise Kuroko to make some sort of deal with them so it didn't happen again. "So which of their capos have you been seeing?"

"Saten Ruiko is her name, she only recently became a made woman so I don't know much about her, only that I see her way too often for her not to be up to something and she looks like a troublemaker," the woman frowned, "she wears a daisy in her hat so that should help you know it's her, but I have no idea where she might be at the moment."

I nodded. If she was Perizioute I had an idea where I could find her. "Thank you for your help," I said, nodding with gratitude as I turned to leave.

She looked at me, I could feel the slightly lonely gaze drilling into my back before she spoke, "maybe when I'm not busy we could go for a coffee and doughnut sometime, just like the old days."

"I'd like that," I said to her before leaving.

Author's Note: I don't really like first person in stories. It's not exactly a deal breaker, but it is something I prefer not to have. But this Film Noir style of fic suits first person better than the others so I decided to try it out for once. My opinion that third person is better has been reinforced by the challenge of writing this in first person, but I also see some of first person's good points as well. I hope my inexperience with first person doesn't make this hard to read.


	3. Chapter 3

Uiharu was a good cop. She was smart and determined with a strong sense of justice that wouldn't let her stray from the path until justice was done. Her powerful moral compass kept her strong and pure even in this city of darkness and corruption, yet unlike so many other lawmen I knew she was not insufferably preachy about the matter nor was she arrogantly holier-than-thou about it. She was easy to talk to and made people feel comfortable, a rare skill among law enforcement, one I certainly did not possess.

But she would never be a great cop. She was far too naive and she had hardly any street smarts at all. Perhaps with time I could have taught her how to overcome these things, but even then who knows how that might have turned out. Her naivety was a big part of her, and I'm not sure it would be a good thing to change it even if I could.

This time, however, her lack of street smarts had probably saved her. If she had known where to find Saten I know she would have gone to confront her. If that had happened all those traits that made Uiharu a good cop would surely have gotten her killed. Her dedication to finding the truth and getting justice would have made her an obstacle to the mob that they couldn't have ignored. Her moral compass meant that all attempts at bribery or blackmail would have failed, leaving murder as the only method for getting her off their backs.

I'd dealt with the mob before and had enough wits and cunning to get out alive. I knew when to give up and when to press them. Whether on the street or in the interview room I knew how to talk to them. And, more important for this moment, I knew how to find them.

It was not very hard for me to figure out. After all, mobs were little more than criminals who were more successful and organized than most. I dealt with criminals for years and I knew that they tended to stick to the darkness and shadows, no amount of success or wealth would change that. The only thing it would change is how well they chose to live in that darkness.

To find a wealthy criminal I simply needed to look for a jewel amongst the pebbles and dirt, a speck of gold inlaid within the steel. And in this part of the city there were two such buildings.

One was The Love Well and, while certainly a place where I could find successful criminals spending their time if I looked for them, it was probably not the spot where I could find Saten. No, that honor belonged to this place, Posogante, an italian restaurant where a single decoration was worth several months rent on any other place in the neighborhood in which it resided.

I stood in front of it, looking at the bustling exterior. Considering how late it was it was surprisingly busy, and the light from the electric lamps that lit it spilled into the street. It was far too warm and bright for the darkness of this neighborhood of ours. But its front of luxury and light was nothing but a facade that hid the darkness of its patrons. It was a place of lead as much as gold.

It was not the place someone should walk into unarmed. My hand went to my hip, my finger ran along the barrel of my S&amp;W 29, feeling the word "RAIL" that was engraved on the metal, a tradition of mine that dated back years. It was a new gun, sleek and powerful and eager for its first firefight.

I was desperately hoping it would not come to that however as I tucked it away from sight and entered the door of the place.

* * *

The maitre d' looked at me as I walked in. He bowed his head, "good evening ma'am. Do you have a reservation?"

I raised an eyebrow at him and glanced down at my watch. "I believe Saten Ruiko mentioned having a table ready for us at around this time," I stated in a casual but impatient tone, as if I was meant to be there and this man was keeping me from my business. As far as he knew he was.

Buying my deception immediately he bowed again and gestured to the side. "Of course madam, your table is ready in the private dining room just over there."

Half of the restaurant was composed of private dining rooms, where the mobsters who frequented this place could escape the ears of the other mobsters who dined here and conduct their business in secret. Because of this I had only the direction of the man's gesture to guide me as I confidently weaved through the tables while, in the background, the lilting swells of french horns played a somber tune. It was like the music one would waltz to in a funeral.

I got to the door and found myself hesitating. A deception had gotten me this far, but though I had pretended I was supposed to be here the fact was I wasn't. I might be interrupting a meeting already going on, and if that happened this particular lead would dry up at best and kill me at worst.

Was the money and the sex I would get from this job really worth the risk?

...No. It probably wasn't. So why wasn't I just giving up here and now? Was it sentiment for the work I used to do? Or was the thirst for justice I thought had long died out flaring up again?

Whatever it was it made me twist the knob and step into the room. The heavy wood swung closed behind me, shutting out the music and turning this room into an isolated world where simple things like law and morality wouldn't stop the bullets from flying if I misspoke.

My eyes fell upon the occupants of the room. There were three other people. Two large, gorilla like men in nice suits with tommy guns nestled comfortably in their grip, ready to turn on me in a second. Their muscles were tensed, their gaze steady and cautious.

All of this was in complete contrast to the third person, sitting in the chair between them. She was completely relaxed. Her freshly shined dress shoes were propped up on the table and her fedora, embedded with a daisy and pin-stripped to match her suit, was tilted down to hide the woman's eyes. A cigar, imported, expensive, stuck out of her mouth. I could smell the thick aromatic smoke trailing from the ember at the end.

This person was comfortable here. Unlike me she had been born into the darkness and it had treated her right. The violence that so many feared was merely an opportunity to her. She didn't revel in it but she was far more comfortable with blood than most people had any right to be.

She tilted her hat up with a finger to look at me and I saw her eyes. Her eyebrow raised curiously and a slight grin played upon her lips. "Well well, it seems we have a guest. Who might you be to interrupt Saten Ruiko of the Perizioute family on this peaceful night?"

Lies had gotten me here but they were not the way to proceed. "I am Misaka Mikoto, Private Investigator. I was hired by a certain woman to investigate the death of a prostitute who was killed tonight in an alley off Kagaku road. A person told me that you may know what happened to her."

The woman chuckled as her chair fell back onto all four legs as her feet lowered back to the floor. She leaned forward and favored me with that same coy smile. "A private dick eh? Well if that was a veiled accusation," she began as she pulled a baseball bat out from under the table, "then I can honestly say I haven't had much opportunity for 'batting practice' recently. And a hooker certainly isn't my ideal batting partner anyway."

"It wasn't an accusation, I'm merely looking for a lead. Besides, it was more target practice than batting practice actually. A bullet clean through her head," I prompted. I was fully aware of the woman's predilection for her Mickey Mantle autographed baseball bat when it was time for her to personally teach a lesson. But that didn't mean that she hadn't ordered the attack.

The gangster rolled her eyes, then she shrugged, "nah. You see that's not my style. I dabble in streetwalkers but I prefer them without extra holes. I'm not known as the type to dole out information either. So the question becomes why someone would point you to me. Who exactly did you get this information from?" Her glare turned cold. Those who were willing to rat on the mafia were hardly known for their long and prosperous lives. It was why I had not revealed any names in the beginning.

"Just a person on the street who says they see you in the area a lot," I said. I doubted the woman would appreciate my vagueness, but I could hardly leave Uiharu high and dry.

A small smile tugged at Saten's lips. "You said this... tragedy happened tonight. This is a risky lead to pursue so quickly unless it came from a trusted source. No criminal would be ignorant enough to lead you here. I'm guessing it was one of them boys in blue," the smile grew larger as she lifted her bat and tapped it gently against my cheek, the cold hard wood a reminder of who was in charge here, "tell me, does it happen to be a short little cop with a bouquet of flowers on top of her head?"

This was not good. Uiharu's identity had been exposed. This was exactly why I hadn't wanted her here. My eyes darted between the three people. Three bullets from my RAIL-gun were all it would take for her anonymity to be restored. But that created so many other problems. It was my last resort. For now all I could do was play it cool. "Impressive deduction," I complimented her, "perhaps you should be the private eye here."

She shook her head, "Investigation's fun, but it's not a job. Not a lucrative one anyway. So what did officer flowerhead tell you about me hmmm? Did she mention how charming and handsome I am?"

I sighed, no point in playing dumb now. "Just that you look like a troublemaker and she sees you way too often for you not to be up to something."

The smile dropped away from her face and the bat dropped away from mine. "That's it? She sees me too much?"

"Don't worry boss, that doesn't mean that she isn't happy to see you," one of Saten's bodyguards hurriedly spoke up.

"And looking like a troublemaker can be a good thing. Lots of people like the bad girl look," the other one said.

"But I've been wooing her for a while now. I thought she'd have something else to say at least," the mobster sighed.

"Wooing?" I asked, surprised.

"Ever since I first laid eyes upon her and flipped that silly police woman skirt of hers I knew she was the gal for me. Determined, cute, and shy all at once, she's totally my type. But I've never been good at first impressions, so I guess the feeling is far from mutual," Saten raised her eyebrow at me, "you a friend of hers?"

"Yes," I answered cautiously. Though this route was unexpected it was a blessing. Uiharu was safe for now, but I still had to be careful.

"So if I had a little information regarding your case you'd put in a good word for me with her?"

"I thought you weren't the person to go to for information."

"I'm not the person people come to for information, but that doesn't mean I don't have lots of it," she grinned. "After all, you're not the only one with some girl problems."

"What do you mean?" I questioned her. It seemed like this lead might not be the dead end I had believed it to be. Saten was in the prostitute business as well, so perhaps she was having similar trouble. If that was the situation and if she was willing to give me some info I might just be able to figure out this case yet.

"Tell me, in addition to this one that's punched her ticket have any of this 'certain person's' girls gone missing?" Saten began.

"Yes they have," I recalled Kuroko's words and all of a sudden I had a very bad feeling about all of this. It was as the city's darkness was creeping up on me yet again.

"Well I've not had any girls turn up cold but certainly a couple have not turned up at all. And it just so happens to have started right around the time a certain woman came to town. A dangerous woman with a certain reputation. Death follows her like a cloud. I've been tempted to go after her myself but the boss has forbid it. Even he isn't immune to the danger she poses after all," Saten stated solemnly.

A chill involuntarily traveled up my spine at her words and I found myself asking, "how dangerous is she?"

"Three husbands and two entire crime families have fallen before her. And those are just the ones I know of. Only God knows how many skeletons she actually has in her closet."

I clenched my hands into fists. "Where can I find her?"

"I hear she's been employed as a lounge singer in Hotel Malta. Her name... is Shokuhou Misaki."

* * *

Author's Note: It's amazing how a world of black and white can have such colorful characters. The mobster Saten and the lounge singing Shokuhou were fun characters to write. It's kind of interesting how the weakest character of the group in terms of level is probably the most powerful of the four in this story. Certainly it's great to have her immense confidence backed up by something.

And speaking of black and white... I'm not sure if you noticed but I've tried to recreate the feeling of film noir in this fic by never referencing anything by color. In fact I'm trying to avoid using any color in the fic at all, even if it's only part of an expression like "seeing red" or "feeling blue" or something like that. It's harder than you'd think but also surprisingly easy. I had a little debate over whether or not I should use black or white, but I figured that it'd be fine if I just used pale or dark or light or things like that instead to preserve my colorless record.

Oh, and be sure to fave and follow this story if you're liking it so far.


	4. Chapter 4

For all the darkness Academy City had shown me over the years it would be a lie to say that it was all the city had to offer. My office, my apartment, my life had been stuck in the shadows for years, but even a shadow needs light and an object to cast it. And no light was brighter, no objects taller, than the buildings in the uptown regions.

I had to shield my eyes against the neon that flickered from almost every building. Streetlights and lit windows which flooded the streets so brightly it seemed like midday. Even this late at night I saw the cars clogging the roads, filling the air with the sound of motors and car horns.

And amongst all this hustle and bustle I stood, facing my target, facing Hotel Malta. If Posogante was a speck of gold inlaid within steel then this place was a bar of gold bullion inlaid within silver. The building was a massive stone structure, reaching the sky itself. I could see the decadence in every brick and light that made up the building.

Inside, I knew, was richer and more decadent still. Marble floors so polished I could use them as a mirror and table cloths so lacey I could use them as a dress, silverware made of actual silver and porcelain straight from China. Even the bell at the front desk was polished gold instead of prettied up brass.

For a second I wondered why the younger me had abandoned my world of light to skulk around the darkness. Then I remembered that this place was hardly free from sin. If every shadow had a light then every light must have a shadow, and this building had more lights than the night sky. At least the darkness was honest about it.

I shook my head and entered the building, making my way straight for the lounge. The bouncer gave me a little bit of hassle when I tried to enter but it turns out that despite how far behind I had left this world my name still had some power within it, and like I had spoken a magic word the doors opened in front of me.

The dim lighting inside was a godsend to my weary eyes, still adjusting to the brightness of this place. Here candles burned instead of electric lights, casting everything in flickering shadows. At some tables fat old businessmen sat around doing fat old business things, each one smoking one of those expensive cigars like Saten had smoked, lending the air a pungent aroma. At others there rang the tinkling laughter of fancy dames and their fancy champagne.

It was oddly comforting to see all of this. These revelries were the same I was used to at any other bar, just far more expensive.

Unlike a normal bar though the revelries stopped quite quickly the moment a large electric spotlight switched on, illuminating a stage at the end of the lounge area. The spotlight cast a circle of illumination upon the center of the large curtain that hid the person whom the light was for. Meanwhile a band at one side of the stage began to play a slow haunting melody full of a sadness that I could feel deep in my chest.

I began walking towards a table closer to stage, as the curtains slowly pulled aside to reveal a woman. Cheers erupted from the tables of those businessmen as she was revealed in full glory.

And how glorious that broad was. Long billowing hair that reached her hips, eyes that sparkled with mirth and life, a thin smile that teased and seduced all on its own, and a body so curvy an hourglass would be jealous, I know I was. Her velvet dress was low cut and long with a slit up one leg, showing her curvaceous form without revealing too much. She wore long gloves and stockings that reached her upper thighs, they were silk and lace as well, fully matching the decadence of this place.

But despite the luxury of her clothes she wore only a single piece of jewelry, a simple golden locket dangling from a silver chain.

I noted this only in passing, because just as my eyes were travelling to the locket's location the broad began to walk to the microphone in the center of the stage and sing. Her voice was so soft, and sultry, and sad that I couldn't help but listen with all my heart and soul.

"Good morning, heartache, you ole gloomy sight

Good morning, heartache, thought we'd said goodbye last night

I turned and tossed until it seemed you had gone

But here you are with the dawn

Wish I'd forget you

but you're here to stay

It seems I met you

When my love went away

Now everyday I start by saying to you

Good morning, heartache, what's new?"

My aimless wandering had led me to an empty table near the stage. My eyes were riveted onto the singer as her eyes wandered around the room, until finally they landed on me. They stopped in their tracks, lingering on my face with a look I could not decipher. She seemed as if she had something to say but she just kept on singing her song.

"Stop haunting me now

Can't shake you, no how

Just leave me alone

I've got those Monday blues

Straight through Sunday blues

Good morning, heartache, here we go again

Good morning, heartache, you're the one who knew me when

Might as well get used to you hangin around

Good morning, heartache, sit down"

I fell into the seat at the table, the ash of my cigarette grew long enough to fall on its own as my attention was focused elsewhere, focused on this beautiful dame in front of me as her words permeated the air more thickly and chokingly than the smoke itself.

"Stop haunting me now

Can't shake you, no how

Just leave me alone

I've got those Monday blues

Straight through Sunday blues

Good morning, heartache, here we go again

Good morning, heartache, you're the one who knew me when

Might as well get used to you hangin around

Good morning, heartache, sit down"

As the applause began, enthusiastically from the businessmen captivated by her voice and appearance and reluctantly from the fancy ladies jealous at the same, her gaze was still on me, as if those last words were a personal plea, a personal demand. I felt a shudder travel down my body and I knew I couldn't listen to her demands. I was beginning to understand just how dangerous this woman was, and it wasn't a danger I could face with my gun.

I turned towards the exit and walked out. There was always tomorrow after all. I pressed the button for the elevator and waited, thinking of the soft bed that waited for me at home.

It seemed fate had different plans for me though. After a long wait for an elevator to reach my floor I stepped inside, but before I could press the button for the lobby a woman entered the elevator, her hand finding and pressing the button for the penthouse in an instant. The hand was gloved in silk and lace, with the thin dainty fingers of a high class broad.

My eyes traveled slowly up the arm, lingering on the smooth pale skin displayed by her sleeveless dress, up to her shoulder and then to her face. A thin smile and glittering eyes met me when I finally reached them.

Behind her the doors of the elevator closed, leaving us alone in this tiny space with 37 floors between us and our new destination. "Sorry," she cooed in a voice with all the softness and seductiveness of her singing, "you seemed a little indecisive about your destination and my bed was just crying out to me. I hope I'm not taking you too far out your way."

I tilted the brim of my hat down, as if hiding my face in its shadow would protect me. "No ma'am," I answered calmly, "not far at all."

The smile seemed to grow wider as she stepped closer to me. "I haven't seen your face before, are you new around here?"

"I could ask the same question," I deflected, knowing my calmness would not last long in the face of this woman.

"Hmm, I guess I am pretty new. Only been here a few months," she purred. Her every word, no matter how casual, sounded so seductive it sent shivers down my spine as my heart raced.

I had to get out of here, but since fate had handed me this situation I might as well investigate and get it done with. "A few months eh? How interesting, I hear that a series of disappearances started right around then. What an odd coincidence."

"Mmm, is that so? I can't remember hearing about any disappearances recently. The only news I heard about when I came to town was the mysterious death of that businessman. So much tragedy and danger in this city," the sadness in her voice now was put on, dramatic, and obviously fake as she stepped closer to me, "makes you want someone close to protect you during these hard times."

She was right in front of me now, staring deep into my eyes. She was a couple inches taller than me so she had to look down a little, which made the shivers running down my spine all the more prominent. And when her hands ventured under my coat to trace the delicate curve of my waist I felt like my knees might just give out. It was all I could do to breathe out, "You seem to be protected enough don't you think. Living like a queen atop this ivory tower."

Her hands slowly moved up and down the lines of my body, drawing ever closer to my chest and hips. "Even a queen needs her knights. If just for company. An ivory tower is a lonely place after all." Her perfume was heavy and intoxicating, her eyes drawing me in, and her voice drowning out anything but her.

My hand darted forward, the fingers slipping in between the slit in her dress and sliding across her thigh, resting just above her stockings. "Mmm," she purred as my hand got into position, "aggressive. I like that in a woman."

"Then you'd love this one girl I know. She's as aggressive as they come when she sees something she wants. She does have one odd habit though. She wears bands on her thighs with knives tucked inside, even during sex," my eyes steeled as police instincts took over, nullifying the hypnotic effects of this broad in front of me, "now a quick question. Who do you think would win in a shootout: The queen in need of a knight to protect her, wielding that S&amp;W Model 29 on my hip you've got your hand on, or the former shooting ace of the police force wielding this Baretta you've got tucked into your stocking."

"Hmm," she purred just as calmly as before, "I think the Ace would beat the Queen in this case, but shootouts aren't really my thing. I can think of many things other than a gun I'd prefer to get out for you, and of course things I'd prefer to take off of you..." She drew her hand away from my gun, revealing a cigarette she must have taken from my pocket on the way down. "My lighter is a little higher up if you could fetch it for me." She winked.

"Use mine," I stated as my own hand withdrew from her dress to take the Zippo from my pocket and light the cigarette. "And while you're at it how about you answer a few of my questions."

After a deep inhale she smiled again and leant forward to kiss my cheek. "I'd love to darling but," she began, pausing for just a second to allow the ding of the elevator bell to ring through the small space as the doors opened, "this is my floor." She hit the button for the lobby as she stepped back out into the hallway of the top floor.

I stepped forward and opened my mouth to stop her, or perhaps to go after her, but she interrupted me before I could say anything. "You know," she purred thoughtfully, "I wonder if that businessman's death was a tragedy after all. I hear he was involved in all sorts of illicit things. His daughter who inherited the company is much nicer. I think her name is... Kongou Mitsuko..." She finished the sentence a second before the doors closed and the elevator began its long journey to the ground floor.

I stepped backwards again, my back touching the cool wall of the elevator as I sighed. Her last words echoed in my head. A mysterious death, a new heir, illicit business dealings, all around the time that these disappearances had begun to happen?

Perhaps it was a lead, perhaps it was a wild goose chase created by Misaki to allow her to escape. I didn't know. All I knew was that I wouldn't be finding out tonight. I thought of my apartment and my bed, but there were certain things I would need to address first, and I knew the best place to address those.

After leaving the hotel I began making my way to The Love Well. It seemed I would be cashing in Kuroko's "special service" tonight.

Author's Note: Sometimes a character fits a role so well it's hard to believe that they weren't written for that role from the beginning. Misaki is the perfect femme fatale in every aspect. Nobody can resist her charms.

She'll show up again later, so just wait for it.


	5. Chapter 5

The drinks at The Love Well's bar were mostly light and fruity, champagne and cocktails, made to wet your throat and relax you a little for this place's main attraction. The tender, Kiyama, was a genius at mixing drinks and had long since figured out just how I liked it. Apparently she had been fired from several bars for her unusual habit of stripping out of her clothes at random times, but in a place like this that was perfectly acceptable, even welcome. An extra show for the patrons.

It was a nice place to hang out, especially while I was getting free drinks. It was almost tempting to drag this assignment out to get the full benefit of this particular perk, but taking advantage of a person like that just wasn't my style.

Though given how much I was being yanked around this way and that by all these leads it was highly possible that this assignment would drag on regardless of my intentions. Things were always difficult when it came to bodies, even when I had the resources of the police force behind me.

Going private had made things simpler for a time. I didn't need those resources to investigate an unfaithful spouse, or an employee with a suspicious background, all I needed was to know the right people. I was payed well and work was steady.

Over time though the work dried up and the favors my contacts were doing for me outnumbered the ones I had done for them. Things had become so difficult, and never had it been as clear to me just how difficult it was than right now.

I slammed back the drink in my hand so fast that I could hardly taste it and sighed as I set it down on the counter.

"Is something wrong?" Jufuku asked me. She was one of Kuroko's girls who was looking after me until she was finished with her business.

I knew some of the girls here, and Jufuku was one I had known for a while. Once upon a time she had had a complex about her large eyebrows but time and lots of "business" had soothed her worries that they made her unattractive.

She was a good girl and a decent acquaintance, but she wasn't quite a friend, so I just smiled and said, "Nothing much, just a long day."

As the bartender refilled my glass and Jufuku gently rubbed my shoulders to ease away some of the tension, I heard someone settling down in the stool on my other side.

"Long and productive I hope," Kuroko's familiar voice queried.

I took a long, slow sip of my drink, both to savor the taste and to give me time to think of what I was going to tell her. While I did this Kuroko nodded at Jufuku, prompting her to leave the two of us alone.

"I've been chasing a lead," I told her as I set my drink down again, "but it's not the kind of lead you want to pursue this late at night, so I decided to come here to spend some time. Maybe cash in that little service of yours."

"Hmm? Already? You've hardly given me any time to recover. I thought you'd want to go home to your own bed. I guess you just can't stay away from me, hmmm?" Kuroko purred, pleased by my words.

I thought of telling her about the sexy, teasing broad that had been my last lead, but Kuroko tended to get jealous so that was probably a bad idea.

"I guess I just prefer the beds here." It was a lie, the beds here did not have the Gekota sheets and stuffed animals that made my bed so pleasant, but flattering a dame was never a bad idea.

It earned me a smile as she took my hand and led me to her personal bedroom.

The exhaustion from my long day took hold once she had finished with me and I ended up lapsing into sleep seconds later.

* * *

My sleep was mercifully dreamless. No nightmares to haunt my sleeping mind and stir up any more memories that I would prefer to leave forgotten.

I awoke several hours later. It was probably late morning, but the lack of windows in Kuroko's room made it hard to tell. I was alone, though that wasn't surprising. Kuroko had work to do after all. I looked over at my pile of clothes. I'd have to go home and get changed, especially if I would be going to visit someone as high class as Kongou Mitsuko.

Speaking of a visit... I didn't even know where her house was. It was obviously in uptown but what was the address?

Here was yet another difficulty of being a private investigator rather than a police detective. I sighed but comforted myself with the knowledge that I still had one reliable contact within the force. I slid over to the rotary phone on the nightstand and called her.

"Hey Uiharu, I need a favor. Can you check the uptown archives for the address of the Kongou estate?"

"Uptown isn't exactly our jurisdiction so we don't have those kind of records. But I can still probably find it for you. Just give me a little while."

"How about you call me back on my home phone later."

"I'll do that," she confirmed and hung up.

I headed home to pick up some clean clothes. Soon enough, the phone rang.

"Looks like the Kongou estate is near the airport at the edge of town. Apparently they own it."

"Thank you, talk to you later," I said, relieved that I now knew where to go. I left immediately and took a cab to the airport uptown. From there I got out and walked towards the large house not too far away.

As I walked I looked around. The decadence here was equal to Hotel Malta's but a lot more subtle. The hotel made its wealth obvious through grandiose displays and lavish decorations, but in this place empty yards the size of a block of buildings was as impressive a display of wealth as marble floors and crystal chandeliers. Having things and doing nothing with them was as much a show of wealth as having beautiful decorations filling those spaces.

This place made my skin itch as memories flitted through my mind. It was weird feeling so out of place in an area where I once belonged. Familiar things felt alien after so many years.

Thankfully I didn't have much time to dwell on those thoughts. I soon found myself strolling down the paved walkway that lead to the Kongou estate and ringing the bell.

A cute young thing in a maid's outfit answered the door. "Hello, can I help you?" she asked, her tone high class and happy.

"Hello," I answered politely, "I'd like to talk to the owner of this house, Kongou Mitsuko. Is she in?"

"Indeed she is, may I ask who you are and what you'd like to talk with her about?" She asked.

"I am detective Misaka Mikoto and I'd like to ask her a few questions about a case I'm working on."

"Oh no, is Mistress Mitsuko in trouble?" she began in a worried voice. "I can assure you she's not the type to do anything wrong."

"I'm sure it's nothing," I reassured the maid, "but I'd still like to talk to her and make sure."

"Yes, of course." She nodded and opened the door fully. "Please come in."

I nodded and followed her. "Pardon my intrusion."

She led me into the foyer and down a hallway. "Awatsuki, please prepare some tea," she called out.

Another maid poked her head around a corner. "We have a guest, Wannai?"

"Yes, I'm going to show her to the sitting room and go fetch Mistress Mitsuko. Please bring the tea there," she told the other maid.

True to her word, Wannai led me to a large room decorated with all sorts of opulent vases and fancy, if a little uncomfortable, furniture. The long haired maid, Awatsuki, came in a few seconds later with a tea tray. She put a cup of steaming hot tea on the glass topped coffee table in front of me and said, "milk and sugar?"

I nodded and watched as she put a couple cubes of sugar and a draught of milk in the cup. I added a few more cubes before taking a sip. As I did the maid asked, "What do you need from Mistress Mitsuko?"

I was just about to answer when I was interrupted by what was probably the poshest voice I had ever heard. It was so high class I could practically hear the silver spoon clinking in her mouth.

"Indeed, don't you know that I'm a very important person and very busy with all my work? What do you need that's so important?" She huffed as she walked around the couch and the coffee table to sit in the large, throne-like chair opposite me. Her dress was as elegant and expensive as Shokuhou's but much more modest. Her generous chest was fully hidden by fabric, as were her arms and legs. Even her face was hidden up to the eyes by a splayed fan until she had taken a seat and snapped the fan shut.

My instincts had always been razor sharp. I could keenly feel the darkness of people and places whom I encountered. It didn't matter if it was as blatant as a moonless night or hidden within a pool of light; I could feel it. And right now my instincts were screaming at me.

This lady's words were harsh and her nose was so upturned she was gazing at the sky. And yet my instincts told me that she was a good person, as innocent as they come. Fame and wealth could cause crime as easily as poverty and squalor. But for all this lady's haughtiness and arrogance I could not detect even the slightest bit of guilt in her.

My instincts were very useful in my profession, however it tended to make me think the worst of people. In much the same way that shadow needed a light to be cast every light cast a shadow behind those it illuminated, and those shadows seemed to be the first thing I saw in a person. It was rare I could find someone who was completely free from the darkness of the city, and most of the ones I did meet were children.

But this lady, Kongou Mitsuko, carried such a pure and innocent aura about her that even my cynical nature was forced to give way beneath it. It was beautiful and brilliant to see her, like an angel that had come to earth. My heart beat fast in my chest, though it was an entirely different sensation that was coursing through my body than earlier with Shokuhou.

But despite the feeling of longing in my chest I could not help but feel disgusted. Not at her, how could I possibly be disgusted by such a radiant being? I felt disgusted at myself. This place was a place of light, a place of innocence bordering on naivety. Once upon a time I might have belonged in a place like this, but I had given up the right of my own free will a long time ago. Now I was just tainting this place, bringing in a darkness which had no place here.

"I- I'm sorry for disturbing you," I apologized. "My business really isn't that important I guess." I stood up, ready to leave. This lead was obviously a dead end, just a wild goose chase that Shokuhou had sent me on to distract me from the truth. There was nothing for me here, not anything I deserved to have.

"Wait," the lady began, freezing me in my tracks. She sounded a lot less arrogant all of a sudden, instead her voice had an odd sort of concern and nervousness to it, as if she was worried that her former attitude had driven me out. "Wannai said you were a detective, right? And that you had questions for me?"

"Uh... yeah," I responded, "but I think I was mislead. It's pretty obvious I'm barking up the wrong tree..." I took a step towards the door again.

"Wait," she repeated. "Is this... is this about my father?"

"I... perhaps," I answered. "I had heard that he died recently. Is that right?" With every word I felt as if I was corrupting her just a little bit more, but maybe I could at least find out what parts of Shokuhou's statements were true and which weren't before I left.

"Yes, he did. He left me the company since I'm his only child," She answered. The words were far more gentle now. Her tone was sad and mournful of her lost father, but it still had strength about them that showed she was moving on.

Again I felt dirty. I had made this pure innocent lady sad pursuing a lead that was becoming more and more ridiculous by the second. There was no way this woman was the cause of the disappearances. How in the world could she benefit from such terrible crimes? The death of her father and her subsequent inheritance of the company were completely coincidental. I felt as if I could kick myself for falling for this lie for even a second.

"It's tough running the company," she continued, "but if my suspicions are correct it's probably for the best..."

"Suspicions?" I repeated, my curiosity and instinct temporarily overriding the guilt I felt for staying here.

"Well um... I guess that's what you're here about. You see, daddy would sometimes meet with these people. It was always at night after I had gone to bed, but sometimes I'd see them. I don't know what they were talking about but I don't think it was normal business talk." She looked nervous and yet determined. "And going through the records. I've seen a lot of odd things, money coming in from nowhere and flights that go to these weird places. You kind of interrupted me while I was going through them all. I don't have any solid evidence or anything yet but if you give me some time I'll be a little more helpful I guess."

"Thank you for your concern and help, but I'm not sure that is related to my case," I began.

"But you're a detective right? It's your job to put bad people away," she protested cutely, her naivety showing yet again.

And yet I couldn't help but be suckered in by it. I wanted to protect this lady, to be the knight that Shokuhou had mentioned for a princess who seemed to need it far more.

I got a notebook from my jacket pocket and scrawled some digits on the lined paper. Then I ripped it out of the notebook and handed it to her, "Yeah, I suppose it is. Here's my phone number. Call me if anything comes up and I'll do my best to make sure I take care of it."

The angelic smile that Kongou gave me as she took the piece of paper was well worth the possible risk of this little side job. Knowing that I could make this princess happy was all I needed, and I hoped I could do just that.

My heart felt oddly light as I left the building, each step oddly buoyant, and for some reason the sun seemed to shine a little brighter as I made my way back home.

* * *

Author's Note: This is the end of the first part of this story, the end of the introductions. Thanks for sticking with this through this bit, the next part will be more entertaining, full of drama and action and all that fun stuff. I hope to have the next chapter out before too long, but I have other things to work on and other life issues that suck up more of my time than I thought they would. If you like it be sure to review and favorite, it'll help motivate me to get it out sooner.

I was a little worried about Kongou. She's a bit of a tough character, since she's snooty and arrogant but also kind and generous. A surprising mix that isn't the easiest to write. I hope I did a good job.

As for Mikoto's feelings. Well the thing about a film noir's protagonist is that they often have at least one woman, sometimes several. You've got the femme fatale but you also have that innocent gal like Kongou that the protagonists falls for. They've got all those vices; sex, smoking, drinking. It all adds to the atmosphere, I hope you agree.


End file.
